


Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas

by caitastrophe8499



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-19
Updated: 2016-12-27
Packaged: 2018-09-09 17:34:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8904262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caitastrophe8499/pseuds/caitastrophe8499
Summary: Christmas Eve alone on the Waverider isn't as relaxing as Sara planned and she gets several unexpected visitors.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was meant to be a fluffy Christmas piece.  
> It got out of control.
> 
> I'd like to dedicate this chapter to Lightway, who was reading Cosmic Love whilst GRADUATING FROM COLLEGE. WHAT? Congratulations! :)

As the _Waverider_ glided to a stop, Sara grinned at the perfect landing. She was still learning the controls, but it felt good to be behind the wheel. She sat back in the chair, “This is your stop.”

Stein and Jax stood, both used to the temporal jumps and experiencing no ill side effects. With a grin, Jax waved at the two of them, then jogged off. “See you in the New Year!”

“Be careful, Jefferson!” Stein called.

“Have fun.” Sara turned in the captain’s chair, watching him leave with a faint smile.

Stein picked up his bag off the ground, “Ms. Lance, are you certain you won’t join Clarissa and I? And...Lily. The holidays are meant for family.”

“I’m good, Martin,” Sara answered, walking him off the ship at a more leisurely pace than Jax. “My dad’s busy with being deputy mayor and with everything that’s happened this year, I’m kind of looking forward to some peace and quiet.”

“Should you change your mind, you are always welcome.” He kept his eyes on her, concern peering through the lenses.

“Thanks,” Sara said honestly. She did appreciate the gesture, but like he said, the holidays were for family.

As the door closed behind Stein, Sara walked the halls of the _Waverider_ , her hands in her pockets. They all deserved a break, what with the aliens and losing the amulet. With the holidays right around the corner, it seemed a perfect time for some R and R. So she’d given the jump ship to Ray and Nate so they could meet their families in Star City. Then she'd landed the _Waverider_ for Mick, Stein, and Jax in Central City. Amaya had originally requested her village, but when Mick, of all people, offered to show her 2016, Vixen had jumped at the offer. Sara just hoped the two of them wouldn’t kill one another before they got back.

He'd extended the offer to Sara, too. But she wasn't certain she was up for it. She'd had fun running around cities with the Rogues before, but now that it was just Mick, Sara found that it was more painful than fun. Remembering a sarcastic comment, a cynical remark-

Which left Sara on the _Waverider_. Alone.

She did really want the peace and quiet. She wanted a breath before the next blast from the past. Damien was bad enough, but now Malcolm? Sara was struggling to keep her head above water and now seemed like true perfect opportunity for her to practice swimming.

“Gideon,” Sara called out, “make sure we're cloaked, then shift us to night power.”

**“Yes, Captain Lance.”**

She still wasn't used to that, but Gideon refused to call her anything else. Becoming captain hadn’t been on her to-do list, but she appreciated the trust from the team. As she walked, the lights lowered to just enough to see by. The bedrooms and kitchen would be kept heated, but even now she could feel the chill of Central City’s winter creeping into the hull.

Maybe, before hunkering down in her room, she'd make a cup of hot chocolate. She knew where Rip kept the good liquor and a hit of Irish cream wouldn't hurt. And there was a bag of mini marshmallows in the top cabinet; she remembered hiding them from the rest of the crew with-

A footstep from ahead made Sara pause. She listened intently, picking up the faint shift of air from a dispelled breath, the barest shuffle of fabric. The sound of movement.

She didn't call out. No part of her crew was left aboard and she would have known if they'd come back in - she had come back from the bay doors and would have noticed an intruder.

Instead, Sara reached for her knife and crept along the walls, her eyes and ears focused. The sounds, what few there were, were coming from the kitchen. She waited just outside the open door, watching the play of shadows. They were longer and darker, the lower lights making it difficult, but Sara had been trained in the shadows. She could read them as easily as a footprint and they were telling her someone was just inside.

Exhaling silently, Sara stepped into the room, her knife drawn and her positioning ready for anything - an attack from in front, above, to either side.

She thought she was ready.

Instead, her knife dropped loosely to her side and she stared at the impossible person on her spaceship.

“Hello, beloved.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2! :)

Nyssa al Ghul stared at Sara over the rim of a mug. She took a sip, her dark eyes narrowing slightly in disgust. “Your tea selection is limited.”

“I'll make a list,” Sara replied, sheathing her knife and stepping in. “What are you doing here? How did you get in?”

She reached out to put her hands on Nyssa’s arms, but her fingers passed right through. Sara fell back with a gasp, her eyes wild. “What the hell?”

“I'm not really here,” Nyssa said, somewhat belatedly in Sara's opinion.

“A hologram?” Sara asked, trying to make sense of this. “Are you in trouble?”

“I'm not a hologram.” Nyssa put the cup down and it vanished. “I’m a ghost.”

“You died?” Sara asked, reaching for her knife again.

“No, beloved. I am the ghost of our love.”

“I'm going crazy,” she muttered, staring at the table.

Nyssa smiled thinly. “If it is insanity, it is only temporary. You're in danger and we've come to warn you.”

“We?”

“You'll be visited by three tonight. The loves of your past, present, and future.” Nyssa pulled out a chair, gesturing for Sara to sit. She shook her head, preferring to stand right now.

“Great, yeah, this is exactly what I need. So you’re my past and I'm Scrooge?” Sara asked sourly. “I'm lacking in the holiday spirit?” So much for her chance to recover. Perhaps she should have been more shaken, seeing the visage of her former lover, but with the aliens and the time travel, the impossible was becoming her bread and butter.

“The holiday doesn’t concern me.” Nyssa took the chair, placing her chin in her hand as she looked at Sara.

“Then why are you here?” Sara replied.

“You’re running away again.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Excuse me?”

Nyssa smiled. “Don’t be so offended. You know it’s true. You’ve been running for years. Never stopping. Never looking back for fear of what you’ll see.” She waved her hand and the  _ Waverider  _ vanished, replaced with  _ an old dock, the gray light sifting down through the clouds. There was a figure walking towards a boat, tucked under the arm of a young man. They boarded the boat, laughing and giggling, both of them ignoring the glances they received and the how forced their laughter sounded. They disappeared into a cabin, the door of the  _ Gambit  _ slamming shut behind a young Oliver and Sara. _

Sara reeled, back on the  _ Waverider _ . She grabbed the counter as her stomach rolled, the coil of guilt she’d thought she’d overcome surging up like bile in her throat. “What was-how did you...?”

She stared at Nyssa, seeing something more than the assassin behind her dark eyes. “That was when you started running. You haven’t looked back.”

Her insides still turning, Sara fell into the seat across from Nyssa. She raised a shaking hand to her face, “What does this have to do with anything?”

“Everything.” Nyssa placed her hands on the table, looking so real that Sara almost reached out to touch her. Though she still cared for Nyssa, Sara didn’t love her the way that she had. When she thought of love, Sara’s mind was filled with thoughts of cards and alcohol and smoky, drawling tones and-

Nyssa spoke, breaking her spiraling train of thought, “Your answer to pain is to run. You’ve been doing it for so long that I’m not certain you know how to stop.”

“I don’t-”

The Waverider was replaced with  _ Star City’s clock tower, where Sara had lived before joining Oliver. She saw herself asleep, then jolted awake, grabbing her knives. Even though she couldn’t see what had woken her past self, Sara knew what it was - memories of killing and bloodshed, the things she’d done for the League. She watched herself struggle to her feet, then grab her staff. Boots echoed hollowly as Sara marched out of the tower and down towards the street, intent on finding someone to vent her anger on. In fact, she was running before she was even fully awake- _

Gripping the table, she glared at Nyssa. “Stop that! I’m not running!”

Nyssa’s brow arched. “Aren’t you?”

_ Sara stepping aboard the  _ Waverider  _ for the first time, her bag over her shoulder, leaving her failure and terror of not being redeemed behind her- _

_ -the nightmares that woke her, screaming in fear, in anger, and sweat-soaked sheets. She’d get up and train in the gym, ignoring Rip’s comments or Kendra’s worried glances, running herself into the ground so she could at least have dreamless sleep- _

_ Staring down the barrel of a rifle, focused on Martin - her teammate, her crew, her friend - snow creaking under her boots and an icy voice whispering in her ear, “That’s how a killer thinks and you’re not a killer anymore,” but she’s scared that it is her, will always be her, and at least if she runs back to being the assassin, she won’t have to face herself. _

_ -the door closing behind her, shutting out Ray and Kendra’s happy little life. She knew she didn’t belong, but rather than live in a place where she didn’t fit in, she’d just go back to the thing she knew, even if it brought her further down the path she’d been trying to get off of- _

_ She stood up from Laurel’s grave, her dad behind her. She would go back to the  _ Waverider  _ and kill Damien Dhark and anyone else who got in her way and she wouldn’t stop - wouldn’t slow down - wouldn’t give up until they were all dead and they paid for what they did- _

_ “...the future might hold for me. And you. And me and you,” he’d said, looking up at her. But they were flying through time and they’d already lost Carter, and if she stopped moving, if she stayed with him, it would hurt more in the long run, so she’d grinned and quipped and walked away, pretending to be strong and comfortable on her own, but really just feeling _ -

“Enough!” Sara shouted. She got to her feet, the chair falling backwards and clattering onto the floor. Her heart was pounding in her throat, too many emotions coursing through her, her worst moments, her worst feelings condensed into the images that Nyssa had shown her.

“Even now,” Nyssa said, staring at her, “you want to leave, to walk away and deny what I’m saying.”

Sara glared, wanting to argue, but she couldn’t. Her adrenaline was pumping, pushing her to fight or flee, to get away from the words and the memories she’d been trying to deny for years. Stubbornly, she kept her feet planted, fighting back the only way she could. “What’s the point of showing me my tragic backstory?”

“The sarcasm is new. Learn that from your crook?” Nyssa asked archly.

Her temper snapped and her hands slammed down on the table, “What the hell is your point?!”

“You, for all your strength and power, are afraid of pain. You run away from everything that could cause you pain, regardless of what else it could bring.”

“I can handle pain.”

“The physical, yes. A little too well. You’d rather fight than talk. Bleed rather than cry. You’d rather die than risk living.”

“I’m here, aren’t I?” Sara snapped.

“On the edges of life. On the periphery. You keep everyone away for fear of letting them in and getting hurt,” Nyssa’s calming voice soothed Sara enough that she righted her chair and took a seat.

“Fat lot of good that’s done me,” she muttered.

“You are hurting. You’ve lost your mission. Your captain. Your sister. Your...friend,” Nyssa stumbled a bit over the last, her eyes curious.

Sara ignored the question, keeping her gaze steady.

“But instead of facing it, you are running. After their killers, after their ideas, away from the memories. If you don’t stop and face it, you will suffer far more. And I don’t mean physically.”

“I don’t want…” Sara trailed off. There was no one else aboard, other than this figment of her imagination. She still hadn’t ruled out the chance that she’d gone crazy, but she also choked on the admission. “I don’t want to hurt.”

“Pain is inevitable. It’s part of a full life.”

“Then I don’t want a full life,” she snapped. “I’m tired of being hurt, of being left behind, of remembering. If running means it won’t happen again, then I won’t ever stop.”

“Then you will lose yourself.”

“So?”

Nyssa drew back. “So. I do not wish to see that happen. We may not be destined to be together again, but there is always a place in my heart for you. I want only your happiness.”

Sara stared sullenly at the table, unable to argue, unable to agree. Nyssa was right, but Sara was sick and tired of losing. The only way to stop was not to play the game.

With a sigh, Nyssa stood. “I knew that I would not be enough. I can only hope the next will be more convincing.”

Sara glanced up as Nyssa reached down, her hand ghosting over Sara’s cheek. “Goodbye, beloved.”

She turned and left the kitchen, finally sparking Sara into movement. “Nyssa, wait!” She got to her feet and chased after the spectre. “Nyssa!”

**The hallway was empty and Sara was once again alone. **


	3. Chapter 3

“Gideon, test the air for-”

**“There is nothing unusual in the air, Captain Lance.”**

“Then test _me_ -”

**“All scans are normal.”**

Sara cursed, her eyes darting around the room again. It had been nearly an hour since her visit from the ghost of Sara’s past, and she was on pins and needles waiting for the second. So far, nothing. She’d had Gideon run every test she could, making sure this wasn’t some type of incredibly subtle attack, but everything was coming up empty.

Looking at her hand, Sara clenched it into a fist to stop from shaking. The memories Nyssa had shown her - the feelings she’d felt - had left her feeling wrecked and unbalanced. She wasn’t certain she could take another assault like that. Maybe if she just ignored the next one instead of engaging with it.

Right, don’t play the game.

Sara stalked through the ship to her room, making more noise than usual to cover up anything else that she might hear. Sliding the door closed, she turned on her music, drowning out the sounds of the engine, the hum of the lights, the cries in her head. Out the window, the snow coming down softly over the darkening night sky allowed her to ignore her own reflection. Soon, the snow reflected back a pale, otherworldly glow, the streetlights illuminating a quiet city, cloaked in white. Every moment she watched the snow made her feel calmer, the cold soothing her temper and her nerves.

_“Just take it, assassin.”_

_Sara shook her head, her teeth chattering. Getting locked in a room without heat hadn’t been on her list of things to do today and her thin top wasn’t doing anything to help her. “N-no. It’s yours.”_

_He ignored her, putting it over her shoulders with a roll of his eyes and closing it up. “You can give it back when we get out of this.”_

_She tried to object, though being surrounded by warmth, tinted with the smell of whiskey and spice made it nearly impossible. “But the cold-”_

_A crooked smirk. “I live for the cold.”_

She shook her head, wishing she could blame that one on Nyssa, but knowing that was all her own. Shivering, Sara didn’t go to her closet - where that blue jacket had been stashed - but grabbed the white throw off her bed and wrapped it around her shoulders, returning to the window seat.

“White’s a good color on you.”

Sara’s heart clenched and she stared out the window, seeing the reflection in the glass. “Laurel.”

The image approached, the smile on her face exactly as Sara remembered it. Perhaps it would have hurt more, but after the dream of the Dominators, seeing Laurel just caused the constant ache in her chest to spark slightly. Still, tears pushed at Sara’s eyes and she couldn’t help but turn.

Laurel smiled gently at her, tilting her head. “How are you?”

Sara shrugged. “I’m…”

Taking a seat on the bench across from her, Laurel’s gaze was soft. “You’ve been so strong.”

“I miss you,” Sara whispered, a single hot tear slipping down her face.

“I miss you, too.” She touched Sara’s hand, the contact still not solid, but stronger than Nyssa’s. Sara could feel her, but it was as if she was touching her through a wad of cotton.

“How are you my present?” Sara said, wiping her eyes. “You’re…”

“Dead?” Laurel filled in gently.

Sara’s nod was quick, still grasping Laurel’s hand.

“Because you’re still holding onto me.” Laurel reached up with her free hand and pushed Sara’s hair over her ear. “You won’t let me go.”

“If I let go,” Sara said, “then you’ll be gone. For good.”

Laurel smiled. “I will never be gone. You can remember, but you’re letting it consume you. You’re shutting out what could be for what was.”

“I’m running,” Sara muttered, remembering what Nyssa had said.

“Yes.”

“Stopping Dhark is the right thing to do,” she argued.

“It’s not what you’re running to that’s that problem, Sara. It’s what you’re running from.” She stood, pulling Sara with her.

“What am I running from?” Sara asked, holding onto her blanket.

“I’ll show you.”

Laurel pulled her toward the door, the metal sliding open to reveal-

_A cozy room, lit by fairy lights and candles. Thea was sitting on a couch, smiling up at Oliver as he handed her a drink._

_“Thanks, Ollie.”_

_He smiled. “And you, Quentin?”_

_“I’m good, thanks,” Sara’s father said, stepping out from behind the tree. He looked tired, worn down. Even more so than at Laurel’s funeral._ Sara tried to step forward, but Laurel held her fast.

“Dad?” Sara called.

“He can’t hear you. Or see you. You’re here to watch,” Laurel said.

_“How’s rehab?” Thea asked._

_Oliver cast her a sharp glance. “Thea.”_

_“It’s fine,” Quentin answered, passing them a plate. “Going better now. Thanks for…” He looked at Thea, his words trailing off._

_“Of course.”_

_“I’m glad you could make it to Christmas,” Oliver said._

_“Me, too,” Quentin said, his smile only slightly forced. “Wasn’t going to be much fun on my own.”_

_“And you haven’t heard from Sara?” Thea asked Oliver._

_“After the Dominators, she took off.” Oliver swirled his glass. “I thought she would have come home for Christmas.”_

_“Time travel’s a bitch,” Thea said, with a weak shrug._

_“Nah,” Quentin said. “It’s okay. She’s out there, saving the world. Doing what she’s meant to do. That’s all I can ask for.”_

_Oliver smiled, but it wasn’t quite right. A knock at the door broke the spell and as Oliver opened it, the scene faded away._

Sara stared at the empty hallway in front of her, the chrome and metal so different from the warm room her dad was in.

“Why didn’t you go home?” Laurel asked.

Sara shook her head. “I had things I needed to do.”

“I could always tell when you were lying,” Laurel reprimanded.

Sara didn’t look over, but she could feel the grip Laurel had on her hand. “I didn’t want to go home because without you, it would hurt.”

“And do you think Dad isn’t hurting?”

“He’s got Oliver and Thea. He’s fine.”

“And who do you have?” Laurel asked.

“I’m fine. I don’t need anyone.”

“Everyone needs someone.” Laurel squeezed her hand. “Or are you afraid that you don’t have anyone left?”

Sara didn’t answer, knowing that Laurel would see through her.

“You have a whole crew. A team,” Laurel said.

“They’ve got their own lives.”

“Do you think you’re not a part of it?” Laurel asked.

Again, Sara remained silent.

Laurel walked them into the hallway, approaching Martin’s room. She slid it open; again, not revealing the orderly books and papers on his desk, but-

_A room filled with music and the scents of a home cooked meal. Martin was sitting at a beautifully set table, staring out the window at the snow that fell slowly._

_“Dad?” the young woman next to him asked. “Dad!”_

_Martin jumped. “I’m sorry, my dear. What was it?”_

_Lily, the dark haired woman had to be Stein’s daughter, smiled. “Where were you?”_

_“Just thinking.”_

_“About what?” Lily asked._

_Clarissa entered, her smile wide but warning, “You’d best not be planning on leaving again. We haven’t even opened presents.” She placed a steaming pile of sliced ham on the table, taking her seat._

_“No,” Martin smiled. “Not in the slightest.”_

_“Then what are you thinking about?” Lily asked again._

_“I’m worried about a friend of mine.”_

_Clarissa frowned. “A teammate?”_

_Martin took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. “Yes. My…captain, actually. She’s experienced several losses recently, and I don’t feel she’s actually recovering from them.”_

_“It takes time,” Lily suggested._

_“Agreed. But it takes more than that. Acceptance. Grieving. Moving on. I fear she hasn’t done any of that.”_

_Clarissa passed the rolls, “Have you spoken to her about it?”_

_“I’ve tried. But she is so distant. She tries to do everything on her own. She doesn’t speak to me, nor to anyone else, as far as I know.”_

_“Her family-”_

_“We are her family,” Martin interrupted Clarissa gently. “The team. We are her family and yet she is on that ship, alone. She won’t let anyone help her.”_

_“Then you’ll have to keep trying,” Lily said. “Eventually, she’ll open up.”_

_“And if she doesn’t?” Martin asked. “What will happen to her?”_

_Clarissa stared at her husband, respect warring with concern. She admired him for caring so much and worried because he was worried. His problems became hers, even though she didn’t understand. “I don’t know.”_

_Martin sighed, then got to his feet. “I need to make a quick phone call. Then, dinner. I promise.”_

_“Dad?” Lily’s voice stopped him in his tracks._

_“Yes, my dear?”_

_“I love you. I’m sure you can help her.”_

_Martin smiled, then reached for his phone._

The scene faded away and again Sara was on the _Waverider_ , staring at an empty room.

“You have so many people who want to help you, but you’re ignoring them. You’re a part of their lives, but you refuse to engage with them. You won’t let them get close,” Laurel said quietly.

Sara didn’t meet her eyes. “Getting close means getting hurt.” There was no point in denying it now. Not from her own mind.

“And you think keeping your distance will make it any less?” Laurel asked.

Sara shrugged and her sister huffed in annoyance, always hating the way she reacted in an argument.

“Whether or not you like it,” Laurel said, her voice sounding firmer, “you are in their lives. You aren’t just hurting yourself by keeping your distance. You’re hurting them.”

“I’m not-”

Laurel yanked her down the hallway, stopping in front of a set of doors. Sara’s heart jumped into her throat as she realized whose rooms these were. She backed away from the left door, unwilling to see its empty contents, vision or no vision.

“No,” Sara said, pulling her hand free.

Laurel glanced at her sadly, then reached for the one on the right.

_A trilling sound echoed from between the the heavy bass line of music that thumped through the bar. Despite the fact that it was Christmas Eve, the bar was packed with criminals and thugs. Sara recognized her thug at a small table. Mick was pounding back a beer, ignoring the sound from his pocket until Amaya nudged him._

_“What?” he growled._

_“You’re ringing.”_

_With a grumble, Mick grabbed the small phone, peering at the screen. “Gotta take this. Don’t let anyone drink my beer.”_

_Amaya smiled. “Got it.”_

_Apparently unconcerned by the looks some of the men were giving Amaya, Mick left her alone at the table, heading out into the snow to answer._

_“Professor,” he muttered into the speaker. “Better have a damn good reason for-” He fell silent, listening to what Martin - the only person Mick called Professor - had to say. “So she’s alone?”_

Sara frowned, never guessing that she’d be a topic of conversation between Mick and Martin, of all people.

_“Nah, I asked but she said no. Not gonna push her. If she doesn’t want to, then-”_

_Sounds of a bar fight began echoing up behind him. Mick turned, his eyes narrowing. “I’ll check in on her. Go back to your figgy pudding, Professor.”_

_He hung up the phone, turning back to the bar. He shoved the door open, revealing a couple of broken tables and not a few bleeding men._

_“What the hell’s goin’ on?” he roared. His eyes danced around the bar until they landed on Amaya, sitting at a new table, calmly sipping her drink._

_He looked around again, taking in the broken and bleeding patrons, who were giving him and Amaya a wide berth. Mick grinned ferally, making those who were glaring at Amaya back off, then got into his seat across from her, grabbing a beer from a passerby. “Got it handled, do you?” he asked, sounding unsurprised, but proud._

_“Obviously.” She smiled, a flush in her cheeks from the fight. “Who was that?”_

_“Professor,” Mick grumbled. “Worryin’ about Blondie.”_

_Amaya’s smile fell a little. “She stayed on the ship?”_

_“Apparently.”_

_“The death of her sister hit her hard,” Amaya said._

_“Not so sure that’s all of it.” His voice sounded haunted, for as much as a convicted arsonist could sound._

_Amaya tilted her head. “Your partner. They were close?”_

_“Boss had a thing for her,” he admitted. “Figured she did, too. But then…”_

_“But then he died.”_

_Mick grunted, draining the beer. He slammed the glass down, staring at the table for a long moment. Then he muttered, “Been seein’ him around the ship. Hearin’ him talk."_

Sara reeled - Mick was seeing him? Why didn’t he say something? They could’ve helped!

_Amaya’s face grew concerned. “What does he say?”_

_“He’s tellin’ me I’m gonna die, just like him, if I keep on the way I am.”_

_Reaching across the table, Amaya placed her small hand on Mick’s massive wrist. “That was before you met me. How long have you been seeing him?”_

_Mick shrugged, but didn’t move away from Amaya’s hand. “Since Chicago.”_

That was two weeks ago!

_“Why didn’t you say anything?”_

_“So you would think I’m crazy?” Mick asked. “I know I’m the dumb one, but I ain’t an idiot. I tell someone, even Blondie, they’re gonna lock me up. For safety, but I’ve been in that cell before. Don’t wanna get locked up again. ‘Specially not now.” He shifted the bottle. “Besides, he only shows up when I’m alone.”_

_“Then when he shows up, you come and find me,” Amaya ordered._

_He nodded once, then sighed, dispelling the tension. “I’ve gotta head back to the ship soon. Check in on Blondie.”_

_Amaya smiled, “You care about her.”_

_“She used to run with us, before…Anyway, Boss said she was part of the crew. You don’t turn your back on crew.” He grabbed another drink, “Even when they turn on you.”_

Sara blinked rapidly as the vision dispelled, leaving her ears ringing from the suddenly absence of noise. She didn’t know Mick was hurting so much from the events at the Oculus. She’d known he passed on the cold gun to Ray, but he’d never said anything about his grieving.

Of course, she’d never asked.

“Others are hurting, too. But they’re reaching out. They’re getting help,” Laurel said quietly. “They’re trying to reach out to you - to help. For help. But you’re shutting them out. It’s hurting all of you.”

“I don’t want to hurt them, but I don’t want to-”

“Be hurt. I know. But that’s life, Sara. And you’re missing out.”

She shook her head, allowing Laurel to turn her away from Mick’s room. “I don’t care.”

Laurel sighed, touching Sara’s cheek. “You are full of passion and a drive to help others,” she said. “And you’ve given a piece of yourself to everyone who crosses your path. To Oliver. To me. To this crew.”

Sara narrowed her eyes, waiting for the point.

“When your city needed you, you gave them your name, your blood, your life. When the crew asked for your help, you gave yourself to this team, ready to give up everything because you thought you weren’t worth saving.”

If anything would have convinced Sara that this wasn’t truly Laurel, this would have. She couldn’t have known what Sara had thought and felt about her decisions.

“But the second they try to give something back to you, you run.” Laurel’s mouth twisted down into a frown. “Why can’t you take their acceptance? Their help? Their love?”

_“You want to steal a kiss from me, Leonard? You’d better be one hell of a thief.”_

Sara stepped back, away from Laurel’s grip. “Because everyone dies. Everyone leaves.”

“That doesn’t mean it’s not worth it.”

“It’s exactly what it means.”

Laurel sighed, her head hanging in defeat. “I’m sorry.” She turned away, heading down the hallway.

Sara ran after her, “Laurel, wait. Don’t go!”

Her sister turned and smiled, a light building inside of her chest and absorbing her. Sara tried to grab her, but she had turned as insubstantial as Nyssa had been.

“Don’t leave me,” Sara whispered, her hands passing through.

Laurel’s smile warmed her. “Never will, White Canary. None of us ever do.”

Sara fell to the floor of the _Waverider_ as Laurel vanished, not even her blanket keeping the cold away.

* * *

 

For a long time, Sara remained where Laurel left her. The metal grating bit into her knees, cold swept into her bones, and Sara didn’t move. Her heart ached with what Nyssa had shown her, with what Laurel had told her. How disappointed she was in herself for what was happening to Mick and her father.

She could have helped, if she’d only gone to them.

But if she’d gone to them, how much would it hurt when they left? Or when they were forced to leave?

She understood what Nyssa and Laurel wanted her to see, she did. She was aware of it. But that didn’t mean she wanted it to change. Why gain more members of a family that would only fall apart, just like hers had? She’d just be opening herself up to more pain and she’d had enough of that to last three lifetimes already. What was the point?

Still, she knew the story and got to her feet. There would be a third. Her future.

Sara wandered the Waverider, her eyes searching listlessly for the third. She already knew what her future held. Death. That’s what everyone’s future was. And she had, quite literally, been there and done that. Death would teach her nothing new, but give her a release from the pain of living. Sometimes she thought it would be a gift.

“Come on,” she called out, after walking the entirety of the ship and finding no new ghost to haunt her. “I know there’s another one.”

She walked onto the bridge, taking a moment to appreciate the cover of snow over the windows. It made the room seem lighter, even as it was smothered, faint light dancing through and around the crystals. She never used to like the snow. It was too cold, too harsh, too unforgiving.

She missed it, now.

With a shake of her head, she turned on the spot, one hand holding the blanket. “Let’s go! Who’s going to show me my future?”

“That would be me.”

Sara stilled, knowing that smoky, drawling voice. It was the same one that cursed her in her dreams, blamed her for everything, said all the honest, painful things about her that she wished she could hide away. She knew that voice better than she knew her own.

Sara turned slowly, seeing a figure sitting in the captain’s chair. Her chair. It spun around slowly, revealing a blue jacket and icy eyes.

“You,” she breathed, her grip going loose and the blanket falling around her feet.

Leonard Snart smirked. “Miss me?”


	4. Chapter 4

“What the hell is this?” she snarled. “You can’t be in my future.”

“Says the time traveler.” Leonard looked at his hand with focused interest. “Thought you were more broadminded.”

“You’re dead!” Her voice echoed around the empty bridge, drawing his eyes up to her. She didn’t mean to, but as the echo came back around, Sara heard the broken grief that she let slip.

He stood, approaching her slowly, his boots clacking on the metal grating. Though his eyes were pinpointed on her with no attempt at humor, his hand waved in the air in front of him, concentrated theatricality oozing off of every movement. “Dead. Dying. Will die.” He shrugged, “Tenses are meaningless with time travel, assassin.”

He was too close and she could tell that he was reaching out to take her arm, just like Laurel had.

“Don’t.” Sara backed away from his grasp.

His eyes danced wickedly, looking more like himself than Laurel’s or Nyssa’s had. “Touchy,” he drawled. Still, he didn’t move to touch her again.

“Is this some kind of sick joke?” Sara asked. Though she could see Nyssa and touch Laurel, she could _feel_ Leonard. He gave off warmth, and the scent of metal and ozone. She could feel the reverberations of his footsteps as he moved, and if he touched her-

“If so, seems like I got the short end of the stick,” he replied, taking a step back from her. “Playing guardian angel ain’t exactly in my resume.”

“Neither was playing hero,” she couldn’t help but say.

Leonard looked at her, catching her blue eyes with a piercing gaze of his own. “See how well that ended for me.”

She refused to cry in front of him, he was just another image. Something someone sent to torment her. So she gritted her teeth and responded the best way she could, locking away her pain behind quips, just like he used to. “You here to tell me I’m making the wrong choice? I should open up to everyone and allow them into my life?”

“That’s the gist of it,” he admitted. But then he shrugged, “Of course, it’d be just the slightest bit hypocritical of me.” He turned around, looking over the bridge and Sara unbent enough to take a few steps nearer. With a disdainful glance at the computer, he ran his hand over his chair - his old chair - and said, “I was the master of keeping people at arm’s length.”

“ _I was gonna apologize for pulling a gun on you, but apparently I was just following a script.”_

_“Doesn’t make you any less of a jerk.”_

_He stared at her, something gentler behind the ice. “Guilty.” Just like that, it was gone again, the crook’s mask back up._

She wasn’t sure if that had been his doing or hers, so she didn’t comment.

“But,” he said loudly, drawing her attention, “seeing as how I’m here anyway, let’s see where this leads us.” He walked back to the captain’s chair, gesturing for her to sit. “Captain.”

Reluctantly, Sara did, all too conscious of how he leaned over her shoulder, his hand close enough to resonate warmth on her skin, turning the chair to face the others.

“If you continue on your path, the way that you are, this is what it’ll get you,” Leonard said, drawling into her ear.

In front of her, in their seats, sat Sara’s crew. But this wasn’t like Nyssa or Laurel’s visions. In this, they didn’t move or speak, they just sat in their chairs, silent and unsmiling, staring at her like ghosts.

“First to go is the Professor and Jax,” Leonard announced, and the two of them faded from view. “Makes sense. Jax has a whole life ahead of him and Stein’s connected. Had to go together.”

Sara felt a faint twist in her heart as she stared at the two empty chairs.

“Then, say goodbye to the boy scout.” Palmer vanished as Leonard said it. “He’s too full of heart. Wants a family and a future. A legacy. Even more than he wants to be a Legend.”

Another knock in her chest.

“Then, the metal man. Living history is exciting. Making it, more so.”

Nate faded and her chest constricted further.

“Now, this is where it gets interesting.” Leonard pointed and Sara saw Amaya vanish from her seat, but appear by the door. “She leaves, but she didn’t want to. You catch her boyfriend’s murderer and she goes back to the J.S.A.”

“That’s what she wants.” She tried to ignore how hard it was for her to breathe.

“Wanted,” he corrected. “Look.”

She followed his finger and saw Mick, the last one in his seat, staring not forward, but back towards Amaya.

“Never would have seen that coming,” Leonard said. “The pyro and the animal. But, he stays.”

“Don’t turn your back on your crew,” Sara murmured.

“That may be my fault. Told him to watch out for you and he took it to heart. Didn’t know he had one,” he said quietly.

Sara watched as Amaya slowly vanished, but Mick still stared over his shoulder. Then, he disappeared, but not silently, with a shout and the sound of a burning inferno. Sara heart twisted so badly she gasped and leaned forward, trying to catch her breath.

“This time next year, he dies,” Leonard said unnecessarily. “Watching your back. Then…” He waved his hand at the empty seats. “There’s no one but you.”

He turned her chair, oblivious to the pain she was in, facing her forward. Through the window, Sara watched herself play out some fight, outnumbered and outgunned. She held her own for a time, but no one could have survived that alone. She takes two bullets to the chest and goes down, the image fading from view.

“As much as I enjoy watching you fight, that isn’t my favorite,” Leonard said, his voice sounding subdued. “You die. Alone and forgotten, fighting to fix an aberration that no one remembers. Gideon returns the _Waverider_ to 2016, where she rusts away. A message is sent to your father and he is left alone in the world, too. Just like Amaya. Just like Mick. Just like you.”

Sara clutched at her chest, unable to breathe through the pain. Then, just as suddenly, it was gone. She sat up, wiping her eyes and catching her breath. She looked up at Leonard, who was still staring out the window where her body had fallen. Now, only snow covered the glass, but she wouldn’t be able to forget that image for a long time.

“I thought it wasn’t supposed to hurt,” she muttered, not quite intentionally.

“Life is pain, assassin,” Leonard said, looking down at her. “No avoiding that. Just a matter of how much you can stand.”

“I’ve had enough.”

“So says everyone. One of life’s great unfairnesses.” He smirked at her, his gaze dropping to her mouth. “Had quite a few of those myself.”

Sara felt a flush in her cheeks, but stood and took a few steps away from him, leaning on the computer at the center. “So what is this supposed to teach me? Life sucks?”

He shrugged. “Not entirely untrue. But the lesson is that although life hands out pain like candy, it also gives you an opportunity. The more pain you risk taking, the more of life you get to have.” He followed her, leaning on the console next to her, so like old times it made her heart hitch.

“What’s the point if it’s still going to hurt later?” she asked.

He stared at her, “The point is, _because_ it’s going to hurt later.”

She frowned, but he waved his hand behind her. “Here’s another path you could take. If you stop pretending you’re alone in the world.”

The crew was back again, this time, smiling at her. They were standing around the computer, a little closer, a little happier.

“First, you gain someone back,” Leonard began.

Sara’s heart jumped as she looked up at Leonard, but he stared past her at the crowd. She tried to tell herself she wasn’t not disappointed, but she was, just a touch, when it was Rip standing at the computer.

“Rip’s alive,” she breathed.

Leonard scoffed, “As someone who's come back from the dead, you’d think you'd know better than to assume anything without a body. And maybe not even then.”

Rip smiled at her, but doesn't make a move to take back his captain’s seat.

“Again,” Leonard said, “Jax and the Professor are first. But this time, the Professor keeps in touch, comes back to visit his adopted family.”

Jax and Martin don't fade, but take a few steps back. Sara straightens, seeing the way Martin stares at her, pride and affection on his face.

Leonard adds, “Professor begins to bring his daughter, and seeing as how she's the only one who cares to keep up with what Palmer has to say and her oh so convenient focus on nanotechnology…”

Lily appears and smiles up at Ray. Eventually, she finds her way underneath his arm.

“They travel with you, until one day-”

A cry breaks the air, but instead of pain, Sara feels her heart shift to accommodate the new arrival, a baby boy in Ray’s arms.

“They name him Michael,” Leonard says with a smirk. “Pisses off Mick to no end.”

Lily and Ray take a step backwards, with baby Mick in their arms. It causes a faint twinge in her heart, but not like before.

“They visit constantly and you're Aunt Sara to little Mickey.”

She can't help her smile as a toddler runs up to her with a gap toothed grin, failing to hide one of her knives behind his back.

Leonard smirked at Mickey. “He takes after his namesake a little too well.”

Mickey steps back to stand with his parents and Jax’s suddenly clothed in a university robe. “Jax graduates from college, degree in aerodynamics. You’re all there to witness it.”

He grins up at her, his tassel in his eyes.

“Then, by far the weirdest thing.” Leonard jerks his head at Mick and Amaya. Sara sees Amaya edging beneath Mick’s arm and the big man allows it, even smiling a tiny bit.

“She evens him out and he makes her lighten up,” Leonard said. A little girl appears briefly in Amaya's arms, but she vanishes quickly.

Sara's chest, which had grown in the brief moment she'd seen their daughter, breaks at the tears on Amaya's face and the frown on Mick’s. Instinctively, she reaches out to grab Leonard’s hand. It’s warm in hers and she can’t let go, even if she wanted to.

His voice is low, but he doesn’t pull away from her. “They lose her. But the second,” a small, squalling boy appears between them, only quieting down when Mick wraps him in a familiar blue coat, “they call him Leonard.”

Then Martin disappears and Sara cried aloud, her chest hurting worse than ever before.

“He lived a long life. Died painlessly in his house after a Christmas dinner that you all attended.” Nate steps back and Leonard said, “Nate leaves to write about your adventures. Dedicates them to Stein. Lily goes on to publish some of his work posthumously.”

Mick and Amaya suddenly hold a second child and Sara stared at her blue eyes. “They call her Sara.”

Even if she wanted to, Sara isn't certain she can stop the tears that are welling in her eyes.

Rip steps back, a faint smile on his face. “Rip leaves to recreate the Time Masters, following the way you've been running things.” New faces appear and disappear, but the original crew stands behind them, the children growing and joining for brief periods of time. “You take on new recruits, training and teaching them. For years, you're running time itself. Jax invents another timeship and then you're a commander.”

Leonard sighs and Sara braces herself.

“Mick and Amaya fly with you until the end, their kids knowing this boat better than Central City. Eventually, Mick goes down.” A burst of new pain and it’s like losing Laurel all over again. The tears spill over and she doesn't move to wipe them away. This hurt so much worse.

“You give up the _Waverider_ after dropping Amaya back in her timeline. She raises the kids there, and you meet her granddaughter, but you soon stop going out on missions, remaining close to your father as he retires.”

Leonard took a breath. “When you die, at a ripe old age, you've done everything you set out to do. You die beloved and missed. Your name is remembered throughout all of history.”

He waved his free hand and an image appeared above the computer. Four headstones, one for her, one for Mick, one for Martin, and a fourth for Leonard - this Leonard, not Mick’s son. They were surrounded by faces she recognized and didn't, ones that she'd seen in Leonard’s images and ones that looked new. As the stones got more and more weathered, people continued to gather around it. As she watched, more headstones appeared around hers - Ray’s, Amaya’s, Nate’s, Jax’s, even Rip’s name. Each one was like a knife in her chest, until all she could see is the pain. Slowly, it faded from view.

She stared straight ahead, aware of the tear tracks on her face. Leonard, uncharacteristically, remained silent for a while, until she was able to inhale slowly. She pulled her hand free of his, wiping her eyes. Then she turned, leaning against the console and facing him. He was too close, but she already hurt so much, what was a little more?

He stared down at her, looking more substantial than Laurel ever did.

“So those are my options, huh?” she asked, when she finally had control over her voice. “Alone and in pain, or with them and in pain?”

Leonard moved to stand in front of her and shrugged. “There are slight deviations, but that about sums up these options.”

He emphasized one of those words just a little too strongly. “These options?” she asked. “Is there another?”

Leonard shrugged. “The future is innumerable and you tend to make waves, assassin. Always a chance for a change. But the path you’re taking leads to three major exits. However, if you’re afraid of this pain, then you can’t handle the last one.”

“What do you mean?” Sara asked, unable to help the question.

“Greater the good, the greater the bad. That’s the tradeoff.” He nodded behind her, at where she’d seen the second option. “That’s a good life. Decent for you, good for your friends. Lower on the pain scale. And you're already considering running.”

Somehow, hearing Leonard say that she was running away seemed to rankle her more than Nyssa or Laurel.

“So what’s my third option?” she asked.

“The third option will hurt like hell. Worse than you can imagine,” he said simply. There was something in the way he said it, though, that made Sara lean forward.

“And the tradeoff?”

He grinned slowly, putting his arms on either side of her, boxing her in. “You really want to know?”

Sara nodded, not trusting her voice to speak.

“It’s everything you’ve dreamed of.”

Leonard pressed his lips to hers and suddenly Sara was catapulted through time, seeing scattered images of this possible future.

- _finding Leonard at the Vanishing Point, the Oculus exploding and reforming, exploding and reforming-_

_“ **Dead. Dying. Will die.”**_

_-a figure appeared in the blue light and she knows it’s him-_

_“- **you’d think you'd know better than to assume anything without a body.”**_

_-she’s sitting in the med bay, staring down at him and she’s never felt so terrified to have him back, to have him alive, but be so close to losing him, his vitals are all over the place-_

_“Sara…”_

_-she throws her arms around him and he holds her tightly, weak but not gone yet-_

_Sara and Leonard fighting through time, aberrations trying to stop them, but he watches her back and she watches his and she’s never felt so alive-_

_Mick and Amaya, sooner than before, holding two baby girls and a boy, the Rogues grinning at one another-_

_She’s shouting at Leonard and he’s shouting back, something about putting their lives in danger, something about wanting a future-_

_-in the gym, and Sara can see her stance and form is all off as she throws punch after punch at the bag, wearing herself down until she falls to the ground-_

_“You can’t leave!” she yells at Leonard, grabbing his arm._

_“Watch me,” he snarls back._

_Then Sara kisses him and lights explode behind her eyes as he drops his bag and the fight and the reason he wanted to leave._

_-hot breaths against her lips and she can’t see, but she can feel the way he moves against her and she gasps, she hears his chuckle against her skin and she’s never felt so happy._

_“I love you,” he murmurs in the dark, fingers trailing over her skin, still igniting sparks with the slightest touch. She grins at him and rolls them over._

_“I love you, crook.”_

_-Ray and Lily, and baby Mickey._

_“Ever want one of those?” Leonard asks, his arms around her shoulders._

_“Wouldn’t mind practicing.”_

_-she’s screaming and this pain is all consuming, but she doesn’t cry, she’s laughing through it-_

_“Hello, Laurel,” Leonard greets, passing the baby to her. Her father’s in the background, grinning like an idiot and clapping Leonard on the shoulder._

_And she’s crying, but it’s half sorrow and half joy - having her sister back, in a way, almost mends the tear in her heart-_

_They’re standing on the bridge of the Waverider, everyone that Sara cares about present and Rip is saying something about being together through all of time and Leonard’s kissing her-_

_-gold on her finger glints as she throws the papers to the ground, “I can’t just stay here” she’s shouting and she terrified that he’s going to hate her, to leave her for wanting to go back to the temporal zone, but he smirks, a challenge in his eyes-_

_Both of them on the bridge, new faces behind them, new crews passing through, but still she sees the originals-_

_Martin’s grave - one fewer headstone in the cluster - she’s crying and Leonard is holding her tightly. And though she’s breaking, it isn’t quite as bad this time around-_

_Mick doesn't die, but Leonard’s left with a horrific scar, the one he got to protect his friend. “I think it’s hot,” Sara says, kissing up the ragged line. He chuckles and wraps her in his arms._

_Flashes of another child, playing with little Mick and Leonard, baby Sara and Laurel giggling in a corner-_

_“-bit of cabin fever,” Sara announces, and she and Leonard sneak out, running to a bar and getting into a fight, both of them grinning and fighting, then kissing in the rain, bloody knuckles and all._

_The two of them on the bridge together, staring out the window at the temporal zone. Then he’s gone and Sara feels her heart breaking, she can’t go on without him, but-_

_“-one hell of a life,” he grins, the lines on his face etched into her memory._

_“Wouldn’t trade a second of it,” she breathes back, kissing him-_

Leonard pulled away and Sara clung to his jacket, tears warring with hope.

“Is that…?” she whispered.

Leonard ran his hand across her cheek. “A possibility. A long, difficult road. But it’s possible.”

She grinned up at him, but his smile faded slightly.

“Won’t be without the pain.”  
She sobers, her fear rearing its head again.

“But,” Leonard said, “pain is inevitable. If you want to have anything worth living for, you’ve got to accept it.”

“Even if each person makes it hurt more?” she asked.

He smirked. “Every time you give a piece of yourself to someone, you break a little bit more.” Leonard pressed his lips to her forehead, then took a step back. The light from the window behind him brightened quickly and she knew he was going. “So, when it’s over, are you going to let your life be just a crack in the universe?” He looked out the window, then over his shoulder at her. “Or are you going to shatter it?”

Sara closed her eyes as the light became too bright to see by, knowing before she opened them that he would be gone.

And she was alone again.

But for the first time, she didn’t feel that way.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for all the waterworks last chapter! This one's a bit shorter, but not nearly as heart-wrenching.

“Blondie?” Mick called out, walking through the  _ Waverider _ . Throughout the night, snow had layered over Central City, making it impossible to get back last night, though he’d tried. It had slowed down this morning, but still the chill forced him into a coat. Amaya hadn’t brought one, so she was draped in one of his extras, nearly vanishing beneath the leather. Snow caked their shoulders, and trickled off Mick’s boots, leaving a wet trail behind him. Amaya danced around the edges, frowning as the ship remained silent.

“Sara?” she called out. Still nothing.

Mick reached for his gun and Amaya didn’t disagree.

“Gideon?” Amaya said. “Where’s Sara?”

**“Captain Lance is in the library.”**

They turned, starting back towards the stairs that led down to the library. As they rounded the corner, they heard another voice calling out, “Ms. Lance?”

Martin and Jax came around, looking concerned.

“Professor,” Mick said, getting the old man’s attention. “What’re you doin’ here?”

“I know you said that you would check in on Ms. Lance, but I felt that I should come back as well,” Martin said, the concern obvious in his face. “No one should be alone at Christmas.”

“And I picked up on Grey’s emotions and came, too,” Jax said simply. “I thought Sara was going home for Christmas.”

“Apparently not,” Amaya murmured.

Mick grunted, then jerked his head. “Metal mouth says she’s in the library.”

They made their way down. Although Mick felt a bit better, he didn’t holster his gun. He flinched at a noise from behind them.

“Guys?”

Mick stared at Nate and Ray, bounding aboard like excited children. Ray had a pile of gifts in his arms.

“What are you doing here?” Jax asked.

“It’s Christmas,” Nate answered. “Time for family.”

“So, what are you doing here?” Amaya asked again.

“We’re a family,” Ray responded simply. “A little mixed up. A little crazy. But still.”

Martin was smiling, “Indeed.”

Even Amaya and Jax looked touched, but Mick hadn’t yet accomplished what he’d set out to do. He pushed his way through the veritable circus show that was forming and continued down toward the library.

“What’s going on?” Ray asked from behind him.

“Ms. Lance is in the library.” The way Stein said it made it clear that something wasn’t entirely right. Ray sobered up, but kept asking questions all the way there.

Even over the conversation all the way to the library, Mick could make out the shuffle of papers and pages in the library. What the hell could she be working on?

They came around the corner and Mick drew up short. Amaya’s brows rose up to her hairline and Martin muttered, “Goodness…”

Sara was almost buried beneath books and papers, writing something down on a notebook as she shifted to another text.

“Uh, Sara?” Ray asked.

She looked up at them, her eyes widening at seeing the entirety of the crew. “What’s going on?” she asked, the notebook lowering. “Is everyone okay?”

“We’re fine,” Amaya answered.

“How about you?” Nate asked carefully.

Mick watched her look between them and he frowned. There was none of the heaviness on her face, none of the sorrow he’d grown accustomed to. Instead, she seemed...hopeful.

“I’m fine,” she said, and it didn’t sound like a lie, like she’d been saying it a thousand times and didn’t believe it. “But why are you all here? It’s Christmas. You should be home.”

“Exactly,” Ray said. The unadulterated honesty should have made Mick roll his eyes, but he couldn’t help but see Sara soften a bit.

It’d been a long time since she’d looked even slightly happy.

“What are you doing?” Nate asked, looking at one of the books.

Her eyes darted around them and she seemed to be steeling herself. “This is going to sound crazy, but-”

“The Oculus,” Martin breathed, looking up at her. He’d grabbed one of the books she’d had open, and read the subject. “Why in the world are you researching that?”

Mick stilled, his frown growing more prominent. The only reason she’d be reading about the Oculus was if-

Sara sighed, “Look. I can’t explain it, but I think he might still be-”

“No,” Mick cut in sharply, the first thing he’d said since walking into the library.

Sara looked up at him, her eyes seeing him for what seemed to be the first time in months. “I know you’ve been seeing him.”

He reeled - how had she known? “I’m not crazy.” He tensed, looking at the door; he wasn't about to be locked up again.

Jax seemed inclined to disagree, but Sara quickly said, “Of course you aren’t. I think he’s in the Oculus.”

“It exploded,” Martin reminded them gently. Amaya and Nate seemed to be lost, but no one was slowing down enough to explain it to them.

“It controlled time. I think blowing it up destroyed the Vanishing Point, but there’s no way we could destroy time itself.” Sara reached for a different book, handing it to Martin, her voice speeding up. “If you read, you can see that the Oculus wasn’t created by the Time Masters. It was harnessed by them. We destroyed the harness, but it still exists.”

“So when I see Snart,” Mick began.

“You’re seeing an echo of him, cast off from the Oculus,” Sara finished.

Martin stared at the book, his hand over his mouth.

Jax spoke up quietly, “You’re not saying that he might be-”

“Alive.” Her voice sounded triumphant, but terrified. “And yes, I am.”

Mick stared at her, wondering if she was just going as crazy as he was. Hoping that she wasn’t. Preparing for the worst. But still, if there was even the slightest chance…?

“What are we waiting for?” he growled.

Sara waved her hand at the books. “I was trying to figure out how to fly and get him out at the same time, because there must be some sort of loop, but-”

Mick was already answering. “‘Maya, help Professor and Metal Man, see if there’s anything in these notes that’ll help us out. Haircut, figure out a way to keep that bomb exploding, but get Snart out.” They all started moving, and Mick though he was used to seeing people run when he starting burning things, he wasn’t so used to seeing them listen when he spoke. “Kid, you work on getting our shields up, no tellin’ what we’ll be headin’ into. Wheels up in five.” When Sara just stared at him, Mick glared at her.

“Let’s move, Blondie. You and me’re flyin’ this bucket.” He marched down the hallway, not hearing her behind him, but knowing she was following.

“Mick?” she said.

He grunted in response, looking at her.

“Thanks.”

He could’ve ignored that. He could’ve answered like he always did, with a roll of his eyes and silence. But the way she said it, the way she looked now, after everything they’d been through, drew out a real answer from him.

“You don’t turn your back on your crew.”

They both knew he didn’t mean Snart.


	6. Chapter 6

Hours later, Sara finally stopped moving and took a full breath.

It shook, so she tried again.

She leaned forward, pressing her hands into her eyes until she saw spots, trying to take in a full breath.

They’d done it. 

They’d actually done it.

They’d gotten to the Vanishing Point and seen nothing but destruction, nothing but shattered buildings and a broken planet, but amidst it all, they saw a blue light that grew and shrunk, grew and shrunk.

The explosion of the Oculus, replaying and rewinding. Over and over again.

Him dying, over and over again.

They hadn’t spent much time deliberating. Sara had given out orders as detached as she could, taking Mick down to the Oculus with Jax flying the jump ship. The others remained on board, just in case.

She and Mick had gotten into the Oculus and though they didn’t stop, Sara had heard Mick swear under his breath when they saw him, still holding the bomb that would kill him, still waiting to die.

Leonard had been less than pleased to see them, obviously unaware that months had passed. While Mick covered them from the Time Masters who had also been caught in the loop, Sara tried to move Leonard, with some difficulty.

_ “I told you to go,” he snarled at her, the first words in months and he was pissed. Figured. Behind the anger, she thought she saw fear in his eyes. For him or for them? _

_ Sara stepped up beside Leonard, trying to push him out of the way. “Move,” she ordered, trying to keep her mind on the mission and not on the fact that he felt warm and real beneath her fingers. _

_ “I told you-” _

_ “Get out of the way!” Sara shouted, trying to pull his arm out of the machine. _

_ He refused to budge. “I’m not letting you-” _

_ “Just trust me!” she said, finally meeting his eyes. Ray was counting down in her ear and Mick was shouting at the Time Masters and she could hear the ticking of the bomb, but she didn’t care. _

_ Leonard stared at her the same way he had when he was talking about dying in the ship - too real, too close to the truth, but painful honesty. She imagined she looked much the same. _

_ Whatever he saw made him step back. _

From there, it had been a matter of escaping before the bomb went off. Leonard had passed out just outside the Oculus and neither of them could wake him. Mick had carried him back to the jump ship and they’d taken off as the building exploded, sending them careening through debris, but, thanks to Jax’s flying, relatively unharmed.

They’d docked with the  _ Waverider _ and Mick had taken Leonard immediately to the med bay, trailed by Ray and Martin. That left Sara with getting them back into the temporal zone, helping Jax and Nate repair the hull from what damage the Vanishing Point had managed, then to explain everything to the rest of the crew.

Leonard had been in the med bay for a few hours now, but no sign of regaining consciousness. Gideon said that while he’d been caught in the time loop, his cells had been broken apart and reassembled, which wasn’t a problem while he was in there. However, removing him from that pattern had forced his body to rapidly come to terms with the physical time he’d been there, rather than what he construed mentally.

Mick just said he was catching up on lost time. And that he’d aged eight months in minutes.

Sara had stopped by on her way to change, but had only heard the frantic beeping of the machines and Martin’s worried conversation with Mick.

“If his body can't withstand the strain of this-”

“He can.”

“Mr. Rory, we may have to accept that even though he’s back, he may not-”

She’d moved on after that, desperate not to hear anything else. After she’d done all that she could around the ship, she was left with nowhere else to go but to her room.

Sitting back on her bed, Sara leaned against the cold metal. She wanted to go to the med bay, she wanted to sit with Mick and him. But at the same time, she was terrified.

Her entire future seemed to hinge on the man lying unconscious in the med bay. Even if she hadn’t seen it, even if she hadn’t known what was possible, she doubted she would feel any differently.

_ “I’ve been thinking about what the future holds for me. And you. And me and you.” _

**“Captain Lance?”**

Sara jumped as Gideon’s voice echoed through her room. “Yeah?”

**“Mr. Rory wanted me to inform you that Mr. Snart has woken up.”**

* * *

 

 

Sara stood outside the infirmary. It was about forty minutes after Gideon’s announcement, and she had been watching a veritable train of people walk in and out.

Mick was still in there.

Ray went in.

Martin went in.

Jax went in.

Nate went in.

Jax came out.

Amaya went in.

Nate came out.

Amaya came out.

Martin came out.

Mick came out - went back in - then dragged Ray out. He shoved the scientist away. “Give him some space,” he growled. His eyes found Sara still standing against the wall, waiting for…

She didn’t know.

Ray wandered off and Mick jerked his head at the door. “He’s awake.”

“I know, I just…”

Mick didn’t say anything, just stared at her.

Lifting her chin, Sara inhaled and stepped through the door to the med bay, barely realizing that the door had closed behind her.

Leonard looked up at her as she entered, his eyes sunken in, his clothes hanging more loosely off his frame as he stood next to the bed. But the eyes were the same, the smirk more tired, but still full of the same attitude.

She stood in the doorway, drinking up the sight of him, her memories of what was to come dancing behind her eyes.

“Miss me?” he asked, the tenor of his voice exactly how she remembered. His eyes were guarded, unsure. He was giving her an out, she realized. To step back and be friends. He remembered how she’d shied away from everything else. How he had, too.

Part of her - a small part, but nonetheless still there - wanted to return to their method of quips and banter. It would be easier.

Sara remembered the future pain of losing him, of fighting with him, the struggle to finally end up together, losing her friends who’d become closer than family, one by heart-breaking one.

But over all of that, she could also see his smile.

Easier, but not better.

Taking the plunge, Sara didn’t run away. She didn’t smile and leave him with a hope for the future. She didn’t go back to the way things were, because she'd seen how things could be and that was worth everything. She was so tired of running away.

Instead, she ran towards him, throwing her arms around his neck - taking care not to knock him over - and hugging him tightly.

Leonard inhaled, startled by her reaction. After a beat, his arms wrapped up and around her, holding her just as close.

“Yes,” she murmured against his shoulder. “I missed you.”

He didn’t say anything, drawing back slightly. Sara allowed for some room, but kept her arms draped over his shoulders. He didn’t comment on it, but instead said, “Mick said it’s been a while.”

“Months.” His hands still rested on her hips, not inclined to let her go. She waited for him to say something, anything. But he remained quiet. So she added, “It’s Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” he muttered, half-heartedly.

She chuckled weakly. “Yeah.”

Searching her eyes for a long moment, he seemed at a loss for what to do next. “He also said that this was all your doing.”

Sara didn’t nod or respond.

“Didn’t know you cared.” He was teasing, flirting, putting the walls up. Allowing her to take a step back, if she wanted.

She really didn’t.

“I do care.”

His eyes widened slightly, hands flexing on her waist. Before he could say anything, before she could back out, Sara spoke again.

“Lately, I’ve been thinking about what the future might hold for me,” she said, her arms still around his neck. “And you. And me and you.”

His smirk widened. “You wanna steal a kiss from me, Lance?”

She pressed her lips against his, answer enough.

Her future showed them dancing around one another for a while, but Sara was so tired of waiting. Forget waiting for her life to begin. The future she was shown was only one, but she was going to make it happen.

His lips were soft, despite all the hard words that tripped past them, and gentle against hers. They were slightly cooler, drawing her in, luring her close. His hands remained on her waist, but she could feel the small patterns he was drawing on her hips. Eagerly, she allowed her lips to part and his tongue danced in, proving her right that he was more than clever with just his words.

Though this kiss didn’t show her the future, she found it to be far more important.

Pain was worth this. Everything was worth this. She could shatter into a thousand pieces when he was gone, but for every second he was here-

She’d seen her future and wanted it to start now.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas! :)

**-One Year Later-**

Sara was curled up on the jump seat by the window, staring out at the blue whorls of the temporal zone. The  _ Waverider  _ was just drifting, no place to be, no time to save, just relaxing. The only sound on the bridge was the faint music Gideon was playing from the computer. Something Christmassy and quiet.

Dinner at Stein’s had been enjoyable, but full of people and noise. A good kind of noise, granted. The kind of noise of family and happiness, excitement and comfort, loud voices and big hearts. She enjoyed it immensely, but she liked the quiet, too.

She heard him before he entered the room, though his steps almost as quiet as hers. However, she didn’t turn until she heard him speak.

“Miss me?”

Sara turned to look at him, the jacket he’d worn for the cold walk to and from Stein’s long since discarded. If she recalled properly, it was still in the cargo bay, where she’d pushed it off his shoulders the second the doors closed behind them. Though he was meticulous when it came to his clothes, he’d been a bit too distracted, his hands in her hair and his mouth attacking her skin. Despite having been together since the day he’d been brought back, Sara still found that it was near impossible to keep her hands off of him, making up for the time she’d nearly lost. Luckily, Leonard didn’t seem to mind, though he had a bit more self control when they were in front of the team.

Part of the reason they’d been the first to leave Stein’s party.

Currently, the dark sweater was pushed up over his forearms, keeping the sleeves out of the two mugs he was carrying. Sara smiled, taking one and leaving him with his obnoxious reindeer one.

“Always.”

He sat on the seat next to her and she amused herself by watching the faint blue-green light of the temporal zone play off the angles and shadows of his face, waiting for her hot chocolate to cool.

“You sure you don’t want to go out with Mick?” she asked him again.

He glanced at her, steam from the drinks swirling up between them. “He’s got Amaya to keep him company.”

“Lisa-”

“Is out with Team Flash,” he interrupted, only managing to sound slightly annoyed about that one. His little sister dating Cisco hadn’t exactly been part of his plan, but Sara suspected that his disapproval was more of a show than anything else. “I’m exactly where I want to be.”

Sara let her concerns go with that statement, shifting so she was leaning up against his chest in the window, his arms around her as they sat in silence, watching time slip by outside.

“Used to hate the temporal zone,” she murmured. It had always been the too quiet, too still place between missions, where there was nothing to distract her and the only thing she’d had to keep her company were her thoughts. Now, her thoughts weren’t such bad company and she always had him, too.

Leonard’s free hand was running over her arm, his lips pressing into her shoulder. “And now?”

Now it was where she’d found him again. Their quiet place in all of time and space. “Don’t mind it so much.”

He hummed quietly, not needing to respond. Gideon dimmed the lights a bit more, making the bridge seem a bit closer, a bit cozier.

“I got you something,” Leonard said, startling Sara out of her content doze.

She turned slightly, to look at him. “I told you I didn’t want anything.” She knew how lucky she was to survive this year at all, let alone having a team that was closer than ever and always growing a bit more. She’d given Rip the  _ Waverider  _ back when they’d rescued him, as it was his ship, but he’d told her that she was co-captain. He seemed more comfortable with the team now - it was hard to be at odds with the group who saved your life. And tonight, Ray had met Lily for the first time. It was clear it wouldn’t be the last time, if Ray had anything to say about it.

“I know.” He was utterly unrepentant. “But it’s Christmas.” He pulled a small wrapped out from below the seat and handed it to her.

Sara eyed him with a half-hearted glare, but he merely smirked. “If it helps, I didn’t pay for it.”

A chuckle escaping, Sara unwrapped the plain red paper, revealing a small leather book. She traced her fingers over the embossed title and Leonard spoke quietly.

“Seeing as how this is what started it all, I thought it was appropriate.”

She nodded, smiling at the copy of  _ A Christmas Carol _ . She’d told him everything, a few months into their relationship. He’d taken it in stride, though she knew he hated the idea of destiny. He was more comfortable once Sara said she’d already changed it slightly. His one apparently pressing question had been, “Did he kiss better than me?” Then he proceeded to persuade her that his ghost-self had nothing on the real Snart. She’d been very much convinced.

“I love it,” she said. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Scrooge.”

She laughed and kissed him, tasting chocolate and something uniquely Leonard. Something wicked and unapologetic, something subtly sweet.

“Do you ever think about it?” he asked, once she’d pulled away and caught her breath. She didn’t think she’d ever get used to kissing him. She didn’t want to.

“About what?”

“The future.”

“Sometimes,” she answered honestly. Not as often as she thought she would. Her future was bright, but her present was far more riveting. “You?”

“Occasionally. But I know the most important thing.”

“What’s that?” she asked, feeling his mouth press against her shoulder again.

“As long as it’s me and you, it’s going to be one hell of a life.”

Sara grinned out at the temporal zone, to the time that lay before and behind them. “Wouldn’t trade a second of it.”


	8. Extra!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To make up for the heavy angst of this story, I've added a little extra chapter from Leonard's point of view, between chapter 6 and 7. This one really is fluffy, I promise!
> 
> I struggle with fluff outside of a serious plot, so I do apologize. I find it hard to write something without a reasoning or backstory. I'll try to work on that for my lighter pieces.
> 
> Happy belated Christmas! :)

“I’m just pointing out that we could have gotten it cheaper.”

“If I let him hit on you?” Sara retorted sharply.

“If you hadn’t nearly broken his arm.”

“He gave you his number, right in front of me!” The next was said much quieter, in an unwilling mumble, “Not that I blame him.”

Leonard smirked down at the blonde fury next to him. Christmas dinner at Stein’s meant that they were dressed a little nicer than usual. He’d foregone his regular boots and jeans for slacks and shoes, and his sweater had been replaced with a dark button-up. His long coat hid most of it, but he didn’t suffer from false modesty. He’d seen the way Sara’s eyes had grown darker when he walked out of their room on the _Waverider_. No wonder the poor clerk at the liquor store hadn’t been able to control himself.

Still, he hadn’t threatened to freeze the cab driver on the way here, who’d been flirting with Sara as if Leonard wasn’t even in the same vehicle. Again, with her leggings, long white sweater, and boots, he’d hadn’t exactly been able to blame someone else for noticing. But they didn’t have to be quite so indiscreet about it.

To be honest, though, they’d been lucky to get out of the store without the clerk calling the cops. Sara had been seconds away from putting the clerk’s head through the window and it was only when Leonard coolly paid the clerk and put a hand on her back that she’d calmed down. He still held his hand there now, a few blocks down, able to feel the tension of anger roiling beneath her skin.

“Jealous, were you?” he murmured.

Sara looked up at him, frankness written all over her expression. “Yes.”

Despite a year with Sara, he still wasn’t expecting those kinds of responses from her. Honesty would never be either one of their top character traits, but they’d both been making an effort to be more up front when it came to one another.

Too much wasted time.

“I could have stolen it,” he offered.

Sara grinned, the tension fading. “We aren’t bringing Stein a stolen Christmas present.”

“But a bloody one is fine?”

“It’s not bloody,” she argued, but stepped closer to a building to inspect the bottle under the twinkle lights. The gift bag was under her arm, slightly crumpled.

Leonard stared at her, glowing under the lights. The cold air was luckily not very windy, but still made her cheeks turn light red from the chill. Her pink lips were inviting, the smile still dancing at the corner of her mouth and Leonard couldn’t resist.

Stepping into her space, he tilted her chin up with one hand, kissing her softly. Sara was startled, but he felt the bottle press into his stomach as she stepped closer, her free hand cupping his jaw. The contrast of her cold fingers and warm mouth was more intriguing than he’d anticipated and Leonard found himself pressing even closer, his arm going around her waist.

Sara had no qualms about physical contact. If she could, she’d be in his lap ninety percent of the time, at briefings, at meals, at everything. Not because she was needy - the woman loved her space and her time to be alone, which he appreciated. But when they were together, she was in near constant contact with him in some way - her hand in his, her arm around his waist, leaning on the back of his chair or on his leg.

He used to wonder why, but then she’d woken in their bed one night, screaming about the Oculus. He did that sometimes, too; but it wasn’t the memories of being killed that woke her, it was the memories of losing him.

On the other hand, Leonard struggled with physical contact. In private was one thing; to be honest, he’d had a hard time keeping his hands off of her when they were alone. Too many months of dancing around her. Of pulling back when he wanted to lean in, casual intimacy when he wanted more. So when those gates had finally broken, it had been a bit of a flood. Had yet to stop, too.

But in front of the team, that was different. Sara would have no problem kissing him in front of everyone they knew, but he found it a bit more difficult. It wasn’t just the years of abuse - killing his abuser went a long way to fixing that - and he knew Sara wouldn’t hurt him like that. It was more about showing emotion, showing a weakness. Mixing work with pleasure. Which was absurd, seeing as how they lived at work, quite literally. But he struggled and she respected that.

Now, however, there was no team nearby.

His tongue pressed at her lips and she parted them immediately. He tasted Sara - coffee and metal, sharp and husky - and leaned down to press against her more firmly, taking the bottle out of her hands to pull her against him. Her hands grabbed the lapel of his coat, pulling him down to her level as she keened quietly in the back of her throat.

The sound, though creating a thrill in his stomach, drew Leonard back to reality. He pulled away from Sara with an effort, unable to escape her last, light kiss and noise of frustration.

“What the hell was that, Snart?” she whispered, leaning against him.

He just smirked and Sara sighed, pressing her forehead against his chest. He felt her cold nose touch the bare skin above the buttons and took a step back.

If Sara in the snow was beautiful, a disheveled Sara was rapturous.

He took the gift bag from her and slipped the bottle of wine into it, then started back on the path to Stein’s house. Hearing Sara sigh in annoyance, he smiled to himself, unsurprised when her hand slid into his.

“Dirty trick,” she muttered.

“Crook,” he reminded her, squeezing her cold fingers in his. He drew their clasped hands into his pocket, trying to keep her warm.

“I’m going to get you back for that.”

He didn’t doubt it.

* * *

Stein’s house looked like something out of a Christmas catalog. They could see it from down the block, the lights draping from every eave, tinsel and holly wreathed around every window, a large tree in the front yard decorated to the nines.

It was a far sight different from Leonard’s usual Christmases.

When he was a kid, Christmas was just another day. As he got older, he was able to see what he was missing out on and that had made him bitter, especially as he saw Lisa come to the same realization. He’d stolen a few things here and there for her, but it was nothing compared to a real Christmas. As he and Lisa got old enough, any excuse to get out of the house on Christmas was grabbed - traveling somewhere else, going to a movie, heading out to a bar - anything to help them escape the Christmas spirit. When Mick came around, it was much the same. They had run a few heists just before and after the holidays - bigger payouts. That had kept them occupied.

Tonight, however, he’d be celebrating Christmas with Mick, and everyone else, in a very traditional manner. And Lisa - Lisa was out with none other than Cisco Ramon and Team Flash, living it up at the West’s residence. She’d promised to behave, which only had a 60% chance of succeeding, but he’d also never seen her fall for a guy like Ramon. A good guy. It wouldn’t be the first Christmas they’d been apart, but it was the first they were both actually celebrating. He wasn’t entirely sure what to expect from it.

The porch was brightly lit and they could hear voices inside - Leonard could clearly make out Mick’s rumble and Nate’s excited chatter. He reached for the doorbell, but Sara grabbed his wrist.

He paused, arching a brow down at her. Her eyes were looking upwards, above his head. Following her gaze, he saw a cluster of green leaves hanging above their heads. Mistletoe.

Leonard glanced down at her, “Like you need an excu-”

Sara lunged at him, throwing her arms around his neck and pressing her entire body flush with his. This was no gentle kiss in the snow, it was an assault on his senses and will, his reservations flying out the window. Her hips rolled against his and he couldn’t suppress the natural reaction, nor the groan that rumbled out of his chest. Every time he kissed her felt like the first time all over again. She rocked against him, her fingers scraping down the back of his neck and making him shiver, entirely unrelated to the cold. All the while, her tongue and lips wrecked havoc on his. He’d half a mind to say forget the party and head back to the _Waverider_ , but he wasn’t sure they’d last that long.

Suddenly she was gone, tearing away from him and turning towards the door. Leonard had the barest presence of mind to shift behind her as the door opened, revealing Stein’s wife, Clarissa.

“You must be Martin’s friends,” she said with a grin. “Come in. It’s such a pleasure to meet you.”

Leonard put his hands in his coat pockets to hide his discomfort, pulling the edges over his hips. Meanwhile, Sara was smiling and chatting with Clarissa as if they hadn’t been making out on her front porch. She kissed Clarissa’s cheek and flounced off to say hello to Martin, casting Leonard a wicked smile over her shoulder.

Clarissa eyed him as he entered and Leonard felt a faint flush come into his cheeks, though he’d be able to blame it on the warm house.

“You’re Mr. Snart?” Clarissa asked.

Leonard nodded, handing her the gift and still managing to keep his coat closed. “Merry Christmas.”

She put her hand on his arm, “I’m so very happy you could join us this year. Martin has spoken very highly of you.”

“Must not know many crooks, then.” He watched as she peered into the bag, “That wasn’t stolen, if you’re wondering.” He went on the offensive, uncomfortable in more ways than one.

Clarissa looked up at him, unsurprised in the slightest. “With this bottle, I don’t think I’d mind if it was.”

That drew a smirk from Leonard and his shoulders relaxed slightly.

She smiled at him, “Truly a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Snart. You can put your coat in the spare room, Martin’ll fix you a drink, and help yourself to whatever. Dinner will be in about thirty minutes.”

He thanked her quietly, then looked around the room. Amaya and Mick were sitting in the corner, drinks in hand. Though silent, they didn’t appear to be uncomfortable, both of them used to the quiet. Leonard was startled to see that Mick had actually put on dress pants and a button-up, though it was a little faded. He expected Amaya was to blame for that.

Leonard sent a brisk nod towards Nate, who was in conversation with Sara, before heading to Martin.

“Stein,” Leonard said.

“Mr. Snart.” Martin’s smile was easy and comfortable, in a way that he was rarely aboard the Waverider. This was his real passion - his family. “Have you met my daughter?”

Right, the aberration. All things considered, Leonard wasn’t entirely certain that every aberration needed to be solved. And this young woman, with her eager smile and laughing eyes, was the opposite of a problem for Martin.

“I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure,” Leonard said, shaking her hand.

She grinned, “I’m Lily. And I’ve heard quite a bit about you, Mr. Snart.”

“Leonard. All of it bad, I hope.”

Lily laughed and Leonard saw Stein’s face soften as he watched her. “Only some. I actually had a question about your cold gun and the effect it has on nano-technology, which already moves at a faster rate-”

The next few minutes were a flurry of conversation between him and the youngest Stein, Leonard explaining his gun as best he could, while Lily asked increasingly detailed questions. It wasn’t until he saw Sara step towards the spare room that he’d realized he hadn’t removed his coat.

And that he hadn’t gotten even.

He excused himself, stepping into the room behind Sara and closing the door behind him. She glanced at him with a smile, peeling off her coat and putting it on the bed. He did the same, but the second his coat his the bed, he turned and grabbed her hips, marching her back until she bumped against the wall. Hoisting her up in his arms, he swallowed her muffled gasp between his teeth, his hand sliding between them to press at the juncture of her thighs.

Leonard was a details sort of man. He thrived on seeing what others missed. When it came to Sara, he made sure he knew every detail that he could. The way she arched into his palm if he moved a certain way, what made her hands shake, what drew out the muffled curses from between her lips, what made her close her eyes and throw her head back.

And once he knew, he never forgot.

He was damn skilled, and that wasn’t false modesty - something he was never accused of - but facts. He had Sara at the edge in mere moments and just before she fell-

He stopped.

The sound that escaped Sara’s lips couldn’t be called words, so much as a snarl. “What the _hell_ , Snart.”

Leonard smirked, well aware that he had an armful of pissed off assassin and enjoying it immensely. “You made this into a competition, Lance. Don’t get upset if you can’t keep up.”

Grabbing his shirt, she growled, her cheeks flushed and her eyes dark, “If you don’t finish what you started, I swear, I’ll-”

Leonard hushed her, hearing Ray’s voice approaching, buoyant and excited.

“...just put my coat away.”

When the door opened, Ray saw Leonard leaning on the wall and Sara folding her coat and putting it on the bed.

“Merry Christmas,” Ray grinned.

“Yes, it is,” Leonard said, earning a glare from Sara.

He was good at reading situations and Leonard knew that if he didn’t leave with Ray, she was going to make him regret it.

He left with Ray.

* * *

It was probably the most eccentric dinner Leonard had ever been to. Christmas or otherwise.

At one end of the table, Martin, Lily, and Ray were engaged in a very heated discussion regarding the ATOM suit. Leonard watched the way Ray had been steadily shifting to include Lily in the conversation, his eyes lighting up whenever she said something particularly clever, even when she was correcting him.

Sara had told him everything the vision had shown her. Though he didn’t love the idea of their lives being predetermined - he had died trying to keep that from happening - a small part of him found some relief in knowing that Palmer might actually get a second chance at having his happy family.

Besides, Sara had said that they’d already changed the future by being together so soon. He didn’t mind and he would much rather work for his own future than assume it would end up one way or another.

Across from him, Mick and Nate were discussing something about Chicago, while Amaya regaled Clarissa with her exploits from the J.S.A. He’d had his reservations about the superhero, but her dry sense of humor and honest appreciation for Mick had gone a long way to soothing his concerns. He wasn’t sure they’d ever be close, but he respected her.

Next to him, Sara was talking with Jax about the _Waverider_ , while Rip piped up on occasion. He’d taken back his role as captain, at Sara’s insistence, but he was much more open to criticism and input from the team, and Sara worked as a sort of co-captain. It made him more bearable.

Leonard, meanwhile, observed all of them. As much as they could irritate him, he had to admit that he cared about these losers. They, in turn, cared about him enough to risk life and limb getting him back. It was nice, to be cared about.

“A toast,” Martin said suddenly, standing up amidst empty plates. “To old friends returning,” he nodded at Rip and Leonard. “And new friends.” Amaya and Nate smiled. “No matter what this coming year, or any other one we end up in, brings, it is a pleasure to call you my friends and family. Happy holidays.”

“Happy holidays,” they said, glass clinking against one another as they grinned and sipped their drinks.

“Presents!” Ray announced, getting to his feet.

Leonard trailed behind the others, watching as Sara fell into a routine that she’d clearly had at home; she passed out parcels to each person, making sure they were all sitting where they could see one another. Leaning against the wall, he was content to watch as everyone got a gift or two handed to them. Even Mick, dominating a chair in the corner, was handed a brightly wrapped gift. He also got another small one from Amaya, though she did it surreptitiously without the others seeing. He saw Mick pocket it, casting a small smile to her.

Still wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to them.

Intent on watching the others, Leonard started slightly when Sara came up to him, several gifts in her arms.

“Here, crook.”

He stared at her for a moment, unsure what she meant. “What’s this?”

“Yours.”

It looked like nearly everyone had gotten him something. He had far more than anyone else. “I don’t-”

“Happy holidays, Mr. Snart,” Martin said with a smile.

Leonard took a few from Sara, still feeling uneasy. He didn’t get gifts. He stole them. But now…

A new pair of gloves, from Jax. “To go with that sweet new gun I built you.”

A piece of his original cold gun in a frame from Ray. “Sorry about breaking your old one.”

A chunk of metal from Nate. “It’s a piece of the Oculus. Sara said that you liked to collect things like that, so…”

Two bags of mini marshmallows from Rip. “So you don’t break Gideon trying to get her to synthesize them again.”

A book of the top most wanted criminals from Amaya and Mick. “Check out page 86,” Mick said. Leonard opened up to see his own face looking back at him.

A bottle of good whiskey from Martin. “To celebrate important occasions.”

And, most surprisingly, a scrapbook from Sara. It was filled with all sorts of headlines, some from his time as Captain Cold in Central City, others from the different time periods they’d traveled to, but all featuring him or the team. They ranged in languages and dates, but he could get the gist of it.

“Awfully crafty of you,” he said, running his fingers over a headline from the Old West before closing the book reverently.

“Now you can see how far you’ve come.” She smiled up at him from under his arm.

This impossible woman, who fought time to bring him back, who saw all sides of him and not only accepted them, but loved him for it, this incredible woman who’d convinced the others to follow her to the ends of time to rescue a crook. This amazing woman-

She was the greatest gift he’d ever received.

Then, in front of the eyes of the crew - of their _friends_ \- Leonard kissed her.

* * *

Sara's hand in his, Leonard led the way down the street, the bag of gifts in his other hand.

She walked along next to him, humming quietly under her breath, her blue knit cap making her eyes sparkle. The snow was coming down heavily now, gentle flurries frosting her shoulders and clinging to her lashes. Through her fingers, Leonard felt the faint shiver and tucked her under his arm. Sara grinned up at him, wrapping her arm around his waist.

“Did you have a good time?” she asked.

He nodded, turning down into the warehouse district. It was almost abandoned at this point, the rare car speeding by on a race to get home for Christmas Eve.

“Sure you don't want to go get drinks with Mick?”

“I think Mick has sufficient company,” Leonard remarked, recalling the way Amaya had agreed to accompany him. Mick was less pleased when Nate, Ray, and Rip decided to join.

Sara laughed, bells echoing in the empty alleys. They were close to the Waverider, only a block away and he was looking forward to a cup of hot chocolate and an armful of warm assassin. It all felt rather domestic.

Leonard smiled down at her, though she didn't see.

And he didn't see the man come out in front of them.

“Give me your wallets,” he ordered, his voice not shaking, unlike the hand that held his gun.

Leonard tensed, then smirked, feeling Sara's hand grope along his back, her hand brushing the handle of his knife. “Seriously? You’re robbing us?”

“Shut up,” he said. “Wallets. Jewelry. Now.”

“Right,” Leonard said, slowly raising his hands and giving Sara an opening.

She took it, the blade singing out through the snow, glittering like ice just before it stuck in the robber’s shoulder. Leonard stepped forward, but Sara was already there.

Two quick punches had the would-be robber down on the ground, unconscious and blood flowing freely from his nose.

Leonard already had his phone out, calling the anonymous tip line and reporting that there was a robber at the corner of Gale and Harding, ready for pickup. Before they could question him, Leonard hung up, his eyes on Sara.

She was breathing heavily, not due to exertion, but adrenaline. Looking up at him, her eyes were dark and her smile was wide.

It’s not like either one of them got off on fighting. But he always loved powerful people and she always loved the rush of winning. He liked watching her move and she liked that he watched. It was a confidence thing. A display of power and grace.

And a little bit of the fighting.

They were a crook and an assassin, after all. Their idea of domestic was just slightly different.

She came towards him, grabbing his coat and kissing him soundly. Leonard had no qualms with this, wrapping his free arm around her waist and pulling her against him. He could still feel the buzz of adrenaline under his fingers, in the hum of her skin, the scrape of her teeth.

It was catching.

Breaking away, Leonard ignored how loud his breath sounded and took her hand, pulling her towards the _Waverider_ as quickly as he could without running. She laughed, the snow still coming down, refracting with the golden glow of the streetlights and the faint red and blue lights of the cops, coming to answer their call, but doing nothing but cleaning up after them.

As soon as they were in range of the _Waverider_ , Sara pressed a button on the comms they’d all been given, designed by Cisco and upgraded by Gideon, which connected them to the ship and each other. The bay doors slid open and before they were done moving, Sara and Leonard were inside, resuming where they had left off.

She pushed his coat off his shoulder and normally he would care about wrinkling or staining the fabric, but all he could think of right now was the taste of Sara on his lips. The thoughtful gifts were dropped to the floor, the muffled sound telling him he’d managed to at least get them to hit his coat rather than the metal grating. That was all the thought he spared for them, though.

The bay doors finally closed behind them, but the chill had worked its way into the metal and chrome of the _Waverider_. Sara pressed closer automatically, searching for warmth and he obliged. He wrapped his arms around her, following as she led them through the darkened hallways, shoes and hats and shirts shed in their wake.

By the time they made it to their room, they were both bare from the waist up and the rest was quickly stripped off in favor of skin to skin. Sara took a moment, as always, to stare at him, before returning to close the gap, kissing him like it was the first time all over again.

He used to be concerned about how she viewed his scars. He used to be self-conscious about it - one of the only things he’d ever been self-conscious about. But when he finally expressed those worries to her, she’d just looked up at him and said, “Do you care about mine?”

Those scars of hers that wrapped around her body, closer than he ever would. The cause of her nightmares, death, and rebirth. He’d never thought they detracted from her beauty.

They’d just made her stronger. Braver. Better.

“I love them.”

Sara grinned. “Exactly.”

He wasn’t concerned about his scars after that.

He pressed Sara down into the mattress, taking the lead. He was usually more than willing to let her take charge, but tonight was a little different. All the teasing, the working up, the kisses had left him needing her. So he kissed a little harder, teeth scraping a little more, held her a little tighter. But never too much.

He never left a mark. He never had and he never would. He may love her scars because of who she had become, but he would never give her one if he could help it. Love didn’t leave those kinds of scars.

And he truly loved her.

After, when they were both spent, he rolled off of her and onto his back, letting out a long breath.

“Well,” Sara said shakily, “guess I don’t have to kill you after all.”

He grinned at her, remembering with perfect clarity how he’d made her scream his name more than once tonight, in more than one way. “Lucky me.”

She shook her head, then rolled onto her side, curling into his side with her head on his chest. He ran his fingers through her hair, liking it when it was up or braided or however else she wore it, but loving it when it was tangled over their pillows.

“Tired?” he asked.

Scoffing lightly, she rested her chin on his chest to look him in the eye. “Hardly.”

“Hot chocolate?”

She lit up, something so simple as him making her hot chocolate making a deadly assassin act like a child. “With mini marshmallows?”

“I suppose I could share.”

Sara sat up and stretched, and Leonard enjoyed the sight for a moment before doing the same. She pulled on her pants and disappeared into the hallway for a moment. When she returned, her arms full of the clothes they’d discarded on route to their room, he was pulling on a sweater over his jeans.

“I think I got everything,” she said.

“If not, it’ll only upset Rip.” His tone made it clear he didn’t care if it did.

Her eyes dancing, she dropped the armful on the bed. Leonard led the way into the hall toward the kitchen, Sara right at his side. “Need help?”

He shook his head. “No, why don’t you get us into the temporal zone?”

Her smile widened and he knew he’d done right by asking. Rip may be captain, but Sara loved flying this ship. Even more so, she loved flying for the hell of it, not for the destination. No aberrations, no Time Masters, no Legion of Doom. Just flying for the sake of flying.

They reached the kitchen and Sara pressed a kiss on his lips briefly before dancing off to the bridge, humming under her breath.

He watched her go for a moment, wondering again what deity he’d amused enough to allow him this second chance. To give him the opportunity to make up on the time he thought he’d squandered. To gift him with the love of someone like Sara Lance.

He didn’t know how or why, but he’d be damned (again) if he screwed it up this time. So he wouldn’t.

Leonard busied himself with making the hot chocolate, and while the milk was warming, pulled a few items out of a rarely used cupboard in the kitchen.

One was Sara’s Christmas present, which she’d be upset he got in the first place. She said that she was lucky enough to be alive, so she didn’t need any gifts. He didn’t like the way she phrased it, and decided that she deserved a damn gift.

The milk finished warming and he prepped the hot chocolate, opening the mini marshmallows from Rip and pouring a generous amount in each cup. They started to melt and Leonard took a moment to take out the second gift.

It was something much smaller than a book, but sat much heavier in his palm.

A ring, set with a space opal and surrounded by a band of wrought iron. Tough and beautiful, endless and grounded, complex and simple, strong and unique.

Leonard smiled to himself, tucked the ring in his pocket, and went to find his future.


End file.
